


Flesh and Blood

by Drag0nst0rm



Series: Wire and Code [5]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Angst, Gen, missing moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-05-30 18:29:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19408924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drag0nst0rm/pseuds/Drag0nst0rm
Summary: There are few elves left in Middle Earth.Particularly if don't count the Noldorin abominations, which Thranduil emphatically does not.





	Flesh and Blood

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Tolkien's universe.
> 
> Happy birthday, MegMarch1880!

Once his people had covered a world. Now there was little more than his own kingdom left, and he could admit, if only to himself, that they could not stand strong for much longer.

Ungoliant's foul offspring, seeped in dark power that Sauron's biomechanics offspring could never hope to match, infested the Greenwood in ever greater numbers. This was bad enough without the ever growing rumors that Sauron's horrors might soon march once more.

They had fought for centuries upon centuries. Thranduil didn't know how much longer they could hold the line - or what little remained of it.

Their list of allies grew thin. Their kin in Atman were restrained by bans from another exodus. The nearby dwarves would not aid them; the bitterness there lay too deep. And Men . . . What could Men do?

Their only hope was the other elves, but Cirdan's ships were few and far away. And the Noldor . . . The Noldor here were no true elves despite what the Men thought. They were nothing but metal, synth-skin, and endless code hidden behind dark, soulless eyes.

Their realms stood safe, but what was that to him? If the Noldor's abominations alone stood at the end of all things, then life had failed.

"Father?" Legolas shifted uneasily.

The hour had grown late, in all senses of the phrase. He wouldn't have known it from the light. There were no windows in the bunker, just endless, brilliant light sung into being by his people.

Those few that were left, at least.

Alone in his study, save for his son, he had allowed himself to look grieved, but that was a mistake. He donned a calmer look now.

"Go to Elrond and tell him of this Gollum creature's escape, by all means," he said, waving a dismissive hand. "I trust you to carry the message well enough, but take others with you to safeguard the journey. I can spare a half dozen."

"And the request for aid?" Legolas pressed.

His son was young. He did not remember the wars, only this long, slow attrition. He knew the Noldor only through the occasional messenger. He didn't know what it meant to see them in battle.

Thranduil had never seen Doriath himself, but his father had, and Oropher had made sure he never forgot that it was not thanks to Morgoth that Doriath fell and its survivors were hunted.

"We need no aid," Thranduil said coldly. "Not from them."


End file.
